Search for Rhûn RPG

[Eruwen]

The short walk back to the room holding "the catch" seemed longer than it actually was, though Bestialán was not quite sure why. He quickly threw any distracting thought out of his mind and continued his slow walk. The door was not far ahead. As he soon arrived at the entrance, he raised his dragging head to find three persons, all of his race, standing at the door. One was a guard, named Kínadhen that had been there earlier. The others were two civilians of his community.

Bestialán gestured a "hello" at one of the by-standers, named Maulká, who happened to be looking his direction. Nephil, the other one standing at the door, stood against the wall with his eyes concentrating on what seemed like either the floor or whatever object he was holding in his hand that Bestialán could not see.

"Don't tell me all of you are here for this 'catch' as well?" Bestialán said as he approached the door. "What, has this news already spread to every Rhûn-ian in the area?"

Kínadhen nodded his head.

"Well, then what are we doing standing out here for? Let us see it," commanded Bestialán.

As Bestialán began to reach for the handle of the door, Kínadhen stepped in the way and pushed him back. Kínadhen stood firmly at the door with a large spear held out in defense. Bestialán looked at he guard in anger.

"My orders were to not let anyone in," Kínadhen said.

"You don't expect me to believe that the only reason I was called here was because of that pint-sizes menace earlier, do you?" replied Bestialán

The guard gestured a "yes" with his eyes. "I would advise you," Kínadhen began, "that you return to your post. Those in your position do not have any business with matters such as this."

Bestialán gave Kínadhen a wry look of discontent. He felt his left hand clench the sword at his waist, but seeing the guard also clench his spear tightly, he quickly lowered his hand...just in case. Bestialán took a deep breath and stared into the guard's eyes.

"I'm not leaving," Bestialán said, and he took his place against the opposite wall from which the others stood.

[Novnarwen]

Dwalin had seated again, shaking with excitement as he watched the other dwarves standing in front of him. Bali seemed to be fairly calm where he sat, next to Dwalin. The room was filled with this intolerable silence, which made Dwalin wonder whether the others expected him to say anything. He looked questioningly at Bali who didn't meet his eyes. Dwalin felt his hands get all sweaty and his forehead went all watery. Was he supposed to be in charge? He swallowed, which he found hard. As a result of his ever growing eagerness and excitement, he tried to speak.

"So what route are we taking?" he asked with determination. As Bali looked with surprise at his younger brother, Dwalin realised that this question had already been asked and answered just moments earlier. There was muttering amongst the others, as if they were hesitant to the adventure itself, when Dwalin obviously wasn’t paying attention, or so it seemed. He had tried to seem professional, but he felt little where he sat in his seat. What were they expecting? Where they expecting to leave this instant? Didn't they want to be prepared, as in even more prepared? The dwarf looked alarmingly at his brother, whispering in his ear. "Well... You are the adveturerer. How do we do this?"

Bali giggled, but didn't give him a straight answer. He only muttered something about going to Rhûn and finding treasure before anyone else got there first. He made it sound simple, with few words and an easy forumlation: We are going to Rhûn. Those were his exact words. Dwalin's brother also hinted that it was time to go, as in really time to go, which made him understand completely. This was simple. The treasure was as good as theirs.

As the other dwarves were starting to lose their patience, (Dwalin reckoned this conversation with his brother was excluding the others,) Dwalin returned his gaze to the other dwarves. "Well then..." he started.

“This will probably sound very… odd.. But.. Let’s go fellows!" Dwalin remembered Durin's words, about their beards growing extremely long if they didn't get moving. He repeated this, and addressed the dwarf. "As Durin, for that is your name,” he said, nodding towards the dwarf in front. “We don’t want our beards to grow that long!” Dwalin gave a short laugh, while thinking; actually, he’d always dreamed of a long beard.

[Arestevana]

Maulká’s gaze did not waver from the door for many minutes, until she was interrupted in her vigil by the arrival of a stranger. She cast a brief, calculating glance in his direction, confirming the fact that she did not know him. She then resumed her watch at the door. Several minutes later Bestialán arrived, eliciting the barest hint of a nod with his wave. Maulká grudged the politeness implied by the motion, but dared not be openly rude.

Bestialán traded several rough words with Kínadhen and there was a moment when Maulká expected weapons to clash. She felt slightly disappointed when Bestialán pulled his hand away from his weapon and took up a stand along the opposite wall. There were several minutes of silence. Maulká breathed deeply, savoring the sharp feeling of discomfort the silence obviously incited in the guard.

Set on edge by his brief conversation with Bestialán, Kínadhen seemed nervous. His gaze shifted repeatedly as he tried to watch them all at once. The guard seemed to expect some kind of riot. Maulká let the silence linger for several more minutes. Then she drew her short knife, tilting the blade slightly as she freed it to cause a faint ringing. Kinadhen swallowed audibly.

Slowly, deliberately, Maulká pulled a small stone from a pouch at her belt and began to sharpen the knife. She drew the blade across the stone with rhythmic, measured movements. She kept her head downward, eyes on her work. Casting several covert glances at the guard, Maulká could see that he was watching the knife as if entranced. After several moments Maulká stopped and tilted her head to look up at the guard. He stared for a moment longer at the knife, seemingly fascinated by its sudden stillness. Then he chanced to look up, and, seeing her staring, jerked his gaze back to a point on the wall somewhere above her head.

Maulká watched the guard’s face impassively for another moment, then returned the stone and knife to their respective places. The ensuing silence seemed even more tense, heightened by the absence of the ringing of metal-on-stone which had filled the previous minutes. Maulká waited expectantly, listening to the silence and wondering who would be the next to break it.

[Himaran]

The route had been discussed and agreed upon. Weapons, provisions and other necessities had been gathered. Final goodbyes had been said. The expedition to Rhûn had finally begun.

Bali watched silently as the gates swung closed behind his party. His last journey had been about getting here... but it was all so different now. And his brother was with him. The dwarf smiled. Dwalin has a thing or two to learn about travelling. But I will get him in shape before he knows it.

The party was travelling on foot, as ponies might not be able to travel in Rhûn. It was best to go light. Each dwarf carried a heavy pack, his weapons, and any other possessions or objects they wished to take. Bali's sack was the smallest; he was able to be quite comfortable in the wilderness with his cloak and axe. He smiled, watching Dwalin stride along at the head of the group. Yes, little brother. It is time that you learned to lead.

[Novnarwen]

Dwalin went in the lead, having huge difficulties managing the heavy pack, he carried, with things he needed for the journey. The poor dwarf felt a certain pressure; he went in front, which was difficult considering the heavy load he had brought with him. He could get a glimpse of Bali, just behind him, as he looked backwards at the others for a possible rescuer. It was rather painful to watch his brother, carrying as little as possible and being quite pleased with it. Dwalin regretted he hadn't left some of his possessions at home. He frowned as the sun rose and he began to feel warm.

The middle-aged dwarf walked, pretending someone was stalking him, or following him, as it helped to keep the speed up. It was a rather silly method to use, but it worked. In the corner of his eye, he noticed Haenir come up on his side. Dwalin walked faster, trying to avoid his 'follower' to catch up. He could feel the dwarf behind him breathe, heavily. "Dwalin?"

The leader of the small company turned around, pretending to be surprised. "Yes?" Haenir assured Dwalin that he just wanted to check everything was okay, "After all, you are walking quite fast," Haenir said. Dwalin looked at him and slowed down. "Am I?" he asked, not wanting to tell his fellow companion that he was already tired of walking, and that it helped pretending an enemy of some kind was behind him; trying to catch up with him, and that he was trying, desperately, to escape. "Just thinking about.... Rhûn," Dwalin said gently. Haenir nodded. "Can't get my thoughts of Rhûn either," he said, ending his statement with a gruff laugh.

The two of them walked together, talked about Rhûn and the hopes of finding something of value. Dwalin was happy he had someone to talk too. It made him stop thinking of how tired he was and how tired he would become. Dwalin sighed, he should have prepared better for this journey. He didn't even feel he was in good shape. He hoped it would change, or rather, that he would be able to walk without getting so tired; he was after all heading for Rhûn.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

The day wore on and the Dwarves passed through Dale and out through the plains south of Erebor, toward Lake Town. Haenir looked about him as they went at the rich land that had been wrested from the landscape after the fall of Smaug. The Desolation he had wrought was now little but a memory in song and the greyest of heads. The cultivation had been undertaken by the Men, for the Dwarves had – as always – dedicated themselves to harvesting the riches of the Mountain and depending on trade to bring them the food they required to continue their labours deep in the mines. It was from this trade that Haenir had, over many patient years of careful acquisition, been able to build his wealth. Like all Dwarves, his heart was fired by the thought of wealth, and his King was a rich gift-giver. So with every ring or gem or pouch of gold given him by his lord, Haenir had bought the produce of these fields to resell to the Dwarves of the Moutain. Usually, he would take only a small profit, depending on careful management to build wealth slowly but surely. But sometimes, during a season of scarcity, he would horde goods for a while until the prices had been driven so high that he could accrue huge gains. He regretted doing this, but the gold it earned him always quickly overcame his reservations.

His thoughts turned back to Dwalin. A deep and brooding silence had fallen between them as Haenir had considered the landscape – as well as other matters. “I beg your pardon,” he said, “I am a poor companion I fear. I have spent a quiet life – many would say a narrow one – in the service of my King, and I have never been given to much talk.” Dwalin assured him that he had taken no offence, adding “Rhûn’s too far for us to be talking all the way.”

Haenir considered this for a moment. “Aye, ‘tis a step of a ways indeed. And a dangerous one too, I deem, if half of what I’ve heard be true.”

“Why,” Dwalin looked at him through slightly narrowed eyes, “what have you heard?”

Again, Haenir took a moment to think before speaking. It was a habit he had picked up in his years in the Royal Presence. It did not do for people in positions of power to speak before considering. “Naught but children’s tales and the fanciful imaginings of Men I’m sure,” he replied. Then, to change the subject quickly, he looked back at the other Dwarves in the company and said, “At any rate, we’re an odd lot to be marching out on a venture such as this.” He shifted his axe to his other shoulder and shrugged his shoulders beneath his armour. “And how are you doing Master Dwalin?” he asked. “After that sprint you led us on at the outset I was afraid that we’d be carrying you before nightfall!” Dwalin laughed and assured Haenir that he was feeling quite all right. “Good,” Haenir replied, “I’m as eager as anyone to get to where we’re going, but I’m not too keen on the thought of running there as though the very breath of Smaug was singing my beard!”

[bilbo_baggins]

Aras woke before the others, but truly, the Elf did not sleep. Elves never slept, curious things.

While he was stoking the fire up from where it had died down from the night before, the Dwarf woke and the Elf came out of his reverie.

"Good morn to both of ye, my companions. What shall we do?"

Gortek rplied: "Well, lad. I believe we stay for a few days. My senses are as keen as yourn, and they say we should stay."

"I agree with our companion, the Khazad. I think we should make a more permanent camp here," said Raendin

As they had all reached a consensus, the Travelers set about doing, well nothing much. They had a while to wait.

Aras could see that both of his companions were slightly uneasy. He did not know what it was, though. He did not completely trust this Dwarf. And the Elf did not help matters, either. Both of them were not completely trustworthy.

He decided to try and break the proverbial 'ice', "So Gortek, what House or Mansion of Dwarves are you from?"